Come Home
by lizabeth143
Summary: Callie's leaving does more damage than good to the Foster household. Especially Brandon. With Callie gone, will the pain be too much for Brandon? Or, will he find a way to get her back and come home? ***Continued after the season finale of the Fosters.***
1. Safe But Not Sound

"_Come home_, _come home_. 'Cause I've been waiting for you for so long, for so long. And right now there's a war between the vanities, but all I see is you and me. And the fight for you is all I've ever known. So _come home_, _come home_. Everything I can't be is everything you should be, and that's why I need you here. So _come home_."

* * *

"Callie, please come back. Come _home_. Come back to _your_ home. Come back to Jude, to Lena, Stef, the twins. Come back to _me_. Are you at least safe? Please just let me know if you're safe. Is it that hard to pick up the phone and tell me you're _safe_?"

Brandon's quiet voice was shaky. It would break and crack in the middle of a sentence, and he would choke on his words as if he couldn't bear the thought of speaking them.

"If- If it's about what happened yesterday, we can talk about it. If you're worried about Jude, it's okay. It won't happen again. I won't pressure you into this relationship between us anymore if you're worried for Jude's safety and security. But, just come _back_. We need you here. _I_ need you here. Jude-"

Brandon paused. He was about to say that Jude needs her too, but thought better of it. It would just make Callie feel worse about her decision to leave here. He couldn't do that to her, no matter what the circumstances.

Instead, Brandon said softy through the phone, trying to reassure her about the brother she left behind, "Jude's okay. He's hurt, but pulling through. I'll keep a close eye on him for you, okay?"

Brandon started choking up again. Tears fell from his eyes, streaming down his face. His heart throbbed painfully in his chest.

"He forgives you, and he- he loves you. We all do. And we _will_ find you. Stay put, because we're looking for you and not stopping until you're found. Just hold on a little longer, okay? I promise I will-"

His voice was cut off when the phone produced a short beeping sound, indicating the voice mail ran out of time.

Brandon hastily recalled the number again. Like it always did, the phone continued to ring. The rings stopped, and just when Brandon was about to leave another voice mail to finish the last one, a woman's voice spoke through the speaker.

"Voice mail box full."

"Dammit," Brandon cursed to himself.

He gripped the phone tightly in his hand, his knuckles turning white.

Brandon had already left twelve voice mails in the three days since she left. He remembered the last one all too clearly.

* * *

***Flashback***

"God dammit, Callie! Answer the phone!"

Brandon's voice shook with anger. He was angry. Angry at Callie for leaving, angry at Callie for not even leaving a note, and angry at Callie for not saying goodbye. But mostly, angry at Callie because he had no idea where she was or _how_ she was.

"Three days! Three days and not one single word from you! What is wrong with you? How could you just leave like that and not even have the decency to let us know if you're okay? I can't believe you, Callie. What the hell were you thinking? You abandoned Jude. Jude, Callie! Don't you care at all?"

Brandon immediately regretted his words. Of course she cared. That's why she even left in the first place; for Jude.

But his words would hurt Callie more than anything. But Brandon was hurt, too. And scared. And worried. And he just felt so helpless.

Brandon sobbed through the phone.

His voice softened as he whispered shakily, "You didn't even say goodbye, Cal. After everything we went through, and I don't even get a _goodbye_?"

* * *

Just when Brandon was about to set his phone down on the table and walk out, he felt it vibrate and light up in his hand.

Brandon froze. He stopped mid-breath.

_Could it be...?_

Brandon clicked 'Answer' and held the shaking phone up to his ear. All he could hear on the other side was the sound of someone breathing.

"Callie?" Brandon asked uncertainly.

Nothing.

"Please, Callie. I at least need to hear your voice; make sure you're safe. Don't I deserve that much? After everything-"

"I'm safe," a small voice whispered through the phone.

_Callie._

The call ended. Brandon stared at the phone in his hand, unmoving. He quickly regained himself and frantically started to punch his fingers into the keypad of his phone, redialing the number he had memorized by now. One ring… two rings… three rings… No answer. He dialed again. And again. And again. Each time, he was left with the sound of her voice mail.

"God dammit, Callie!"

Brandon threw his phone across the room, resulting in a loud thud, a dent in the wall, and pieces of what was left of his phone scattered throughout the floor.

_How could she? How could she leave? How could she leave him, and not even bother to say goodbye?_

Brandon ran his hands through his hair and slid down the wall. He wrapped his shaking arms around his legs, hugging his body. He pressed a fingertip to his mouth, tracing his quivering bottom lip. One kiss, just one kiss between them, and that's it? That's the end? They didn't even get a chance to talk about what happened. Maybe she left so she didn't have to. He wouldn't blame her. After pressuring her into becoming more involved with him, promising her that it wouldn't end in a tragedy, fate intervenes and it does.

_This is all my fault. All my fault! I was the one being selfish; not her. Why did I have to push her too hard? She knew this would end badly! Why was I too stubborn to listen? Why was I too stubborn to believe her when she said that none of this would work out between them?_

Brandon buried his face in his hands. He could feel the tears cascading down his cheek, his neck, slipping under the collar of his t-shirt, leaving a hot wet trail behind. It seemed to burn into his skin.

_Because I love her._

And he would do anything, _anything, _to be with her.

_"Even risk the threat of Callie being hauled out of here, along with her brother, the only home they've truly felt safe in for a long time? Of something happening like this?" Brandon though bitterly._

He gave a frustrated sigh. Brandon's face was twisted into anger; his eyebrows scrunched together, his eyes becoming an intense bright blue, his lip quivering, the corner of his lips turned down.

This, along with his rapidly beating heart and pounding head, were the signs of how truly upset Brandon was at the realization that Callie could possibly never return to the Foster household ever again. They might never get a chance to talk about the kiss, or how Callie really feels about Brandon, about _them_?

_Why would she do something this stupid, this dangerous? How would this help Jude at all? How would this help the family?_

His face softened.

_Or her? How is this beneficial to any of them?_

Brandon let out another exasperating sigh. His eyes immediately traveled to the guitar sitting in the corner of his bedroom, by the door. New tears flooded his eyes. This was the only thing left that gave hint to her existence spent here in this house; spent with Brandon.

_At least she's safe, wherever she is. That's all that truly matters right now; her well-being._

She's safe, but he's not so sound.


	2. Gone Like My Beating Heart

The sound of hushed voices arguing filled his ears. They were coming from the hallway. He recognized the voices to be no other than Mariana and Jesus.

Brandon groaned. _What time is it?_

He glanced at the clock on his nightstand. It read 6:05.

_Do they seriously have nothing better to do at six o'clock in the morning on a Sunday? Why do they always have to fight?_

Brandon thought nothing better of it and rolled onto his stomach, pillow over his head to block out the noise. He was beginning to drift off to sleep when he heard Callie's name. Brandon's head shot straight up.

_What's wrong with Callie? What's this all about?_

Brandon eventually managed to get out of bed and opened his door, preparing to see a frustrated Jesus and a red-faced Marianna disagreeing over _something_ unimportant. It always was.

This time was different.

Brandon stepped out into the dimly lit hallway, running a hand through his hair, yawning as he grumbled, "Okay, what's the problem this-"

Brandon stopped dead in his tracks. His words caught in his throat at what he saw.

Jesus looked up at him. He had a sorrowful expression plastered on his face, almost pity.

But what really caught Brandon's attention was Marianna.

Her dark brown eyes were glistening. When she saw Brandon, a few tears managed to escape, which fell down her face in hot wet currents. She seemed scared and alarmed.

"Guys, what is this all about? Is everything okay? What's going on?"

Brandon immediately went into protective-brother mode.

_What would cause both of them to seem so upset?_

"I- I… She-"

Mariana struggled for words.

"Is it Lexi?"

That seemed like the most reasonable explanation for why _both _of the twins were so distraught.

Mariana shook her head fiercely. "No. No, it's not Lexi."

Brandon was confused. His lips pulled down into a frown.

"Well, then what is it? What has gotten you so upset? It can't be all that bad, is it?"

Mariana sobbed. "It's- It's-"

Jesus, who had been quietly staring down at his feet, cleared his throat and said somberly, "It's- It's Callie."

Brandon froze. For a moment his heart stopped beating.

_"What?"_ Brandon finally managed to get out.

Mariana spoke up this time.

Her voice shook as she whispered, "She's gone. She's gone, Brandon. Callie's gone."

* * *

Brandon gasped as he woke up. He placed a hand across his chest, trying to catch his breath.

_It's just a dream. It's just a dream, Brandon. Callie's fine. She's just fine. She's-_

Brandon's eyes drifted to the guitar across his room, by his bedroom door.

_What's Callie's guitar doing-?_

The crinkled note on his desk was what finally stirred his attention.

Brandon's heart lurched forward in his chest. Pain clawed its way up past his lungs, through his throat. He struggled to breathe; to think. His mind was reeling, his lungs were suffocating, clenched inside, and his heart was aching. Every beat of his heart built up to a throbbing discomfort.

"Callie." he croaked.

Brandon let his head fall in his hands. His heart felt suffocated; trapped. Every beat was filled with excruciating pain.

_She's gone._

Brandon gasped, as if coming to the terms and finally realizing that Callie really was gone.

_Gone like my beating heart._


End file.
